


Sleepsong

by Moonrose91



Series: The Story of How Phil Coulson Married Clint Barton as told by Clint Barton [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cause he's a sweetie, Coulson Sings Lullaby, Coulson is their favorite, Gen, I'm working on fight scenes, M/M, Protective Phil Coulson, The violence doesn't start to later, Under all the badassery, um...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Despite his no-nonsense attitude and his dislike for inefficency, Coulson is actually remarkably good with the junior SHIELD agents. He's patient and reasonable and doesn't threaten them just because they haven't learned where the good coffee pot is. As such, the baby agents tend to flock to him for everything. Everything. From clarification questions about paperwork to dating advice to personal crises.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Clint thinks this is both hilarious and adorable. He hides in the ceiling above Coulson's office just so he can listen in.</em></p><p> </p><p>That's the prompt. I figure it can work as a summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

There is little that Clint  _doesn't_  notice.

And usually, what he doesn't notice, it is because it is considered a non-threat.

So, he's been recruited into SHIELD. He's part of a group of nearly fifty that gets weeded out to about twenty in the first ten minutes.

A paintball gun sniper.

He's not the best, but he's good.

The objective is to find the sniper and take him out. Clint immediately partners with the most unsuspecting person there, by grabbing the tiniest person in the group, and hides with her in a building. She’s shaking and saying how she’s never fought before and Clint is glad he grabbed her, because he can see, under all the shock of being thrown head first into the deep end of the pool, once she figures out which way is up, no one will get the drop on her again.

Once she calms down, she’s pretty good and she explains her name is Penelope “Penny” Montague and Clint introduces himself to her and they begin to plan.

Penny is about four foot eight, is fine boned, and is an Olympic level gymnast and, yes, that is why SHIELD hired her. He immediately puts that to use and they work together, bouncing off each other.

They tear through the guards they find, stealing paintball guns from them and other useful things, after shooting them with the paintball.

Penny gets calmer as time goes on, getting used to the feeling and weight of a paintball gun in her hand and she’s good at dodging getting shot when Clint says where to go.

Luckily, she knows clock placement, but that doesn’t surprise him.

And they may have bruised the agents playing the bad guys a little more than they should have, but really, that was their own fault.

They were _supposed_ to be an elite group of fighters and such.

If they could be taken out by someone who was using gymnastics as a fight technique (effective, really, but _still_ ), they needed to up their training.

They get to the sniper and Penny shoots him in the back while Clint distracts him.

He grins, takes the sniper rifle and it is over from there.

Penny and Clint are still giggling in the sniper nest, ignoring the grumblings of the sniper, until a man, bland and with the most _amazing_ poker face ever, steps up into the nest, holding a briefcase.

Clint wonders how he missed him.

“Well played Junior Agents Barton and Montague,” he stated.

Penny beams and Clint just nods. “The time was called when we realized the sniper hadn’t turned traitor. You need to work on your hand-to-hand Agent Remington,” the man stated, glancing down at the man who turned over to glare up at the man.

“She kicked me in the face Coulson!” he argued.

“And I’ve broken your jaw, Agent Remington. This should not be an excuse. Get out of the nest, I need to talk to the Junior Agents,” he ordered.

“What about a debrief?” Remington muttered.

“You’re dead. I don’t debrief the dead. _Move_ , Remington, or you’ll find yourself undercover in Siberia,” Coulson ordered, voice sharp and Remington was gone.

Coulson turned to them and settled on the deck of the sniper’s nest and opened up the briefcase. “All right, you two were the only ones successful in taking out the sniper. Good teamwork by the way, we’ll need to pair you two up again in the future,” Coulson stated and made a note in the paperwork he pulled out.

Clint, who could read upside down, noted that it said, _Montague, Penelope “Penny” works in good tandem with Barton, Clinton “Clint”._

No middle names, which Clint was thankful for.

“How do you know our preferred nicknames?” Penny asked.

Huh, she could read upside down too.

“I talked to some old…acquaintances of yours, Junior Agent Montague. Even those who were glad you were gone to clear the way for them to the Olympics called you Penny. Well, did after I reassured them that I would not take that sort of talk from them. And Junior Agent Barton introduced himself as Clint,” Coulson answered calmly, easily.

Clint watched and they explained how they started.

“I picked the most likely person to help me survive,” Clint had answered.

“He grabbed me and hid me in a building on the ceiling,” Penny stated.

They later find out that Coulson talked them through a debriefing.

It shocked Clint, a little, that this guy in a suit had gone out of his way to settle in the sniper’s nest and _walk them through_ a debriefing, since all he heard about Coulson (after) was that he hated inefficiency.

It didn’t sit right in Clint’s mind.

So, with that in mind, he settled in the vent above Coulson’s office and decided to watch.


	2. May you find kindness in all that you meet

It is, technically, Clint's lunch hour, but Penny explained she had to get some paperwork done, so he just grabbed some nutritional bars and settled in for reconnaissance above Coulson's office, which was, as always, lowly lit.

He wanted to figure out what was sitting wrong with how Coulson went out of his way to insure the fifteen Junior Agents who passed were settling comfortably.

Clint watches as Coulson chastises older agents, threatens Sitwell with being tazed for bringing him coffee (Coulson is a tea man apparently) and he calls agents to his office and returns their reports covered in purple marks with a certain vindictiveness that would make Clint snicker if he wasn't currently hiding above the man in the vent.

But then Junior Agent Lowell walked in. Her hands (Clint noted that women asked for help long before guys, probably because well...women were smarter than men in general, and no, that was not because during Clint’s circus years, the Strong Woman glaring at him whenever he said something wrong, nope, not at all) were holding a report so hard it was crinkling under her hands, and she was obviously terrified. “Agent Coulson?” she called hesitantly and he looked up from his work.

Clint blinked in shock as Coulson immediately capped the pen he was writing with, set the report he was working on to the side and focused entirely on Junior Agent Lowell, his entire stance gentle. “What do you need Junior Agent Lowell?” he questioned softly, soothingly.

She walked over and looked at her report, before looking at Agent Coulson. “I know Agent Hill is my trainer, or my handler, or whatever the proper term is, but…I can’t get this right. She just keeps giving it back marked up and it doesn’t have any references points or anything and it is my first report,” she explained, her voice cracking slightly.

Clint felt a little sorry for her.

He had heard Hill was a hard customer (Clint had Coulson, but he shared him with like…four other people, including Penny; there were four Agents that trained the Junior Agents, meaning five to each Agent, so yeah, four other people) and Coulson suddenly pulled out an honest to god _handkerchief_ and stepped out from behind his desk, giving it to Junior Agent Lowell right before she started crying.

Coulson pat her shoulder, removed the mangled report from her hand, and guided her to the couch that was in the office.

“Now, what report do you need to do?” Coulson asked gently and she told him through sobs (along with ‘how does Agent Hill expect me to learn anything if she doesn’t teach?’).

And then Coulson talked her through the report. Showed her how to do the references on a mock report, urged her to ask questions, and answered them fully and patiently, repeating what he needed.

Clint watched, fascinated.

This was not the Coulson that he had been watching for his lunch hour (and beyond; Penny was gonna kill him).

This was someone who was being kind to someone who needed it. Most other agents were there, probably for as long as Coulson (if not longer), so he was harsh because they _did_ know better.

‘That’s…really adorable,’ Clint thought to himself, privately, and made his way out, Coulson’s gentle voice echoing lightly in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics aren't in order.
> 
> ...Just thought I would clear that up.
> 
> Also, I think I have a love affair with this song.


	3. May you bring love and may you bring happiness

Junior Agent Lowell brings Coulson coffee in thanks.

Coulson thanks her politely and then explains that he doesn’t drink coffee, but he appreciates the gesture. When Lowell asks what he does drink, Coulson answers ‘herb teas’ and she’s gone, sure of herself in ways that should not be so.

She comes back with herb tea and takes the coffee to Hill.

The next day, Junior Agent Grant (his first name is Lee, and Clint thinks his parents were particularly cruel) is dragged in by Junior Agent Lowell and asks, “Can you hide him?”

Coulson just raises an eyebrow. “Explain,” he ordered, gently, softly.

He talks them both through a debriefing, like he did for Clint and Penny when they got the sniper and giggled over his “dead” body, because he was complaining.

Turns out Junior Agent Grant accidentally gave Agent Hill decaf, meaning she now has a pounding headache and is ready to kill him.

“There is a hidden spot between those two filing cabinets. Junior Agent Lowell, grab that file. When you hear that door knob rattle, ask about what you should do with it because you found it on the floor and it looks like one that belongs to me,” Coulson stated and Grant is already hiding between the two filing cabinets, and Lowell has the file in her hands, shaking slightly and the door knob is moving and Lowell recites what she says as Hill storms in.

She nearly topples over her Junior Agent as she storms to Coulson’s desk and slams her hands on his desk.

“Where is he?” she asked, uncaring of the files that toppled and slid off.

Coulson watched where they fell and he let out a low sigh. Lowell is cowering behind the file and he glanced up at Hill.

“You’re scaring the Junior Agents. You have _two_ left, Agent Hill. You scared the other three off already. Agent Sitwell has lost two. It is amazing Agent Carson hasn’t lost _any_ , but she will soon. We need agents, agents to be assets and handlers and _scaring them off_ is doing nothing. Now, demanding answers without giving me context is no way to get me to answer anything,” Coulson answered and Hill seethed.

He then handed her a mug of coffee.

“Here. Sitwell gave me this this morning. Take it and go,” Coulson ordered.

Hill seethed, talked about ‘insubordination’ and ‘God damn it Coulson, you have _got_ to stop coddling the Junior Agents, they follow you like ducklings!’ and a few other unsavory things were thrown around before she swept out of the room.

Agent Maria Hill before coffee is scary.

Grant lets out a nervous laugh and steps out, unfolding and Lowell smiles at him and Clint realizes _oh, holy shit, they are in love._

He wondered how that happened, if they knew each other before, and he knows Coulson knows, but he says nothing.

Clint knows there are regs about dating Junior Agents for Agents, but none for Junior Agents.

No one expects that to happen, it seems.

“Junior Agent Grant?” Coulson calls as Lowell and he move to leave.

He turns. “Yes sir?” he questions.

“Don’t go to the third floor rec room to get coffee for Hill again. That coffee is only decaf,” Coulson stated and Grant smiled in thanks before leaving.

Lowell reaches out and gently takes his hand.

Clint thinks on that and watches Coulson get up to clean up the mess Hill made.

He notes that Coulson is smiling, a distant smile that aches and makes Clint want to cry, because he knows that look.

He’s seen it on his own face enough when someone or something reminds him of a good day in the past that is so happy it _hurts_ , because it can never be again.

Clint scurries out of the vent quickly after that and avoids Coulson for three days until Penny (and Matthews, her new friend who is also under Coulson) drag him back for the mandatory meetings Coulson puts them through.

Clint is glad he doesn’t smile again.

He doesn’t think he could take it.


	4. Be loved in return to the end of your days

Penelope Matthews is the first to discover they can go to Coulson for personal matters too.

Clint has gone back to watching and Coulson looks up as Matthews (Penny gets a kick out of the fact they have the same first name) enters nervously. He sets aside the report he is ready and asks, calmly, "What do you need Junior Agent Matthews?"

“What is SHIELD’s position on DADT?” she asked.

“We don’t really have one. Militaristic though we are, at the same time we need to have the best. If we were limited by only taking those that the military was done with, we wouldn’t be effective. And usually that includes those that fail physical exams because of a condition SHIELD works around (and Clint thinks he sees Coulson’s fingers twitch at this), or because of a sexual preference. SHIELD actually encourages because not every single villain out there is straight and it is easier to have someone infiltrate or pose as someone looking for a good time with someone of the same gender if they actually feel that way,” Coulson answered and Matthews nodded.

“What about fraternization?” she questioned.

Coulson thought for a moment. “Senior Agents are not allowed to become romantically involved with Junior Agents, and it is highly advised against Handlers becoming romantically involved with Assets, unless undeniable proof that the Asset moved first is given, like security footage of one of the debriefing rooms. Please don’t do that if you become an Asset,” Coulson answered.

Clint can tell she wants to ask ‘what is an asset?’ and ‘who did _that_?’

“Thank you, sir,” she answered and turned to leave.

“Junior Agent Matthews?” he called.

She turned to face him. “Yes sir?”

“I have it on good authority that Junior Agent Montague feels the same way. I suggest asking before she gets too discouraged. The coffee shop down the road from here sells her favorite cinnamon apple crisps,” Coulson stated and then focused down on the report.

Clint is very glad he’s in the ceiling, because his jaw has dropped and Matthews is staring before she is tearing out of the room to go ask Penny on a date, because, apparently, that’s why she was asking and Clint is starting to think Phil is psychic.

It takes him a few minutes to realize that he thought ‘Phil’ and he internally curses.

The trend that happens is shocking.

The Junior Agents (‘Coulson’s Ducklings’, as everyone in SHIELD calls them) start pouring in. They talk to Coulson about everything and he listens, helps them, and guides them.

Clint wonders if it is just them or if it every Junior Agent that comes through.

He watches Penny skip in, chatting already as she settles on the chair, curled up, as she talks about her cat and how she’s thinking of getting another one, but she’s not sure how Pen (that’s what she calls Junior Agent Matthews) will react to that, and the next she is biting her lip and trying not to cry because some Agents tormented her about being too soft.

Coulson takes care of them before Clint can.

Clint thinks calling the Junior Agents Phil’s Ducklings is wrong.

He rather thinks they are Phil’s _Cygnets_ and Clint finds that makes Phil a lot more dangerous.

Clint didn’t need to be drowned by a swan to know how protective those beautiful birds are of their cygnets.


	5. Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Clint is back, after the six month mandatory trial to see how they are adjusting (which includes a month of ‘intensive survival’ and only Coulson’s ‘ducklings’ have made it through with their entire number) hovering over Coulson's office, grinning a little at the sight of a bunch of Junior Agents sitting in Coulson's office, having lunch as they work while Coulson sits there, calmly working on his reports. He glances up and answers questions posed to him, but he’s not eating and Clint thinks that is a shame.

Mostly because Coulson needs to eat more.

In fact, in all his time he’s been perched up in the vent, he’s never seen Coulson eat here.

He watches the way the Junior Agents maneuver around each other, correcting each other’s mistakes and occasionally sending a question to Coulson about something as they steadily get integrated into SHIELD, the twenty having long become nine and all under Coulson (because, apparently, he’s the one who does this).

Penny is cuddled up against Penelope Matthews on the floor, looking like she’s fourteen and this is a slumber party, and Matthews has a dorky little grin on her face.

It is a beautifully peaceful scene, the soft clicking of keys, even if the light is brighter then Clint is used to in Phil’s (‘Coulson’s’ he corrects himself) office.

They are just sitting around and it is adorable, because it is like a slumber party and Lowell and Grant are sharing a quick kiss on occasion, because everyone knows they are together.

Clint feels like this is the calm before the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that 'Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay' is like a transition, apparently.
> 
> And because nothing works for this chapter.


	6. May there always be angels to watch over you To guide you each step of the way

They get to go on a mission and Penny is probably far more excited then she should be.

Coulson is easily taking them through the steps.

It is supposed to be a milk run, but he notices how Coulson avoids using anything that could possibly jinx that.

Clint falls a bit more in love with Phil with that, because experience is telling and he wonders how Phil learned not to say things to jinx it. He is careful with the remaining eight (Bueller was never cut out for SHIELD and how he survived the six months without aid and only instruction from Sitwell, Clint would _never_ know), guiding them through tactical moves and letting Clint handle himself, because Clint is Clint and he’s been a sniper for far longer then Phil would like to think about.

Clint wonders what started Phil on this path, this path that made him the Junior Agents’ Guardian Angel, working hard to keep them alive (well, the Junior Agents that were placed in this sector of SHIELD; apparently, other sectors got recruitment too), and safe and it is like a burning desire to ensure that they all come home, or back, or whatever.

He’s separated the lovebirds and Clint wants to laugh at that, except that it works, because they all know what they are doing.

It is supposed to be a milk run, and then it isn’t.

* * *

“Director, I refuse to let _untested Junior Agents_ within eight _miles_ of HYDRA, let alone getting them actually into the base. You did not inform me that this was a HYDRA base, and you know that I need to have this information. Every single tactic we have come up with will be pointless and useless now,” Coulson is barking and Clint is listening, but so are the other Junior Agents, who are staring.

Penny inches closer to Matthews, who easily slips an arm around her waist and Coulson pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Low level or _not_ , they are _HYDRA_ and that makes them far more dangerous than the tiny terrorist cell that you said we were going after. HYDRA _is not a tiny terrorist cell,_ ” Coulson responded.

He lets out a low sigh and just seems to accept it.

They pull back out the plans and reorganize. And then someone decides to blow up the bunker behind them.

It is a mad scramble. Clint is firing off his side arm, because they haven’t given him a bow yet, and Coulson grabs Penny and carefully pushes her to Clint. He then grabs her shoulders and makes her look at him. “Promise me, you won’t look back, you won’t stop, and you _will not call my name_ ,” he ordered.

She promised and he turned her to Clint.

“Get them out, Barton,” he ordered and turned around, firing two shots the dropped two of the HYDRA agents.

Clint grabs Penny’s hand and he runs, firing over his shoulder and pushing her forward. They have ‘if the plan goes to hell in a hand basket’ plans and, really, Clint isn’t sure what else to call them, but everything is exploding.

They were prepared for someone and Fury sent them in because his information said something else and Clint is starting to wonder if this is worth it, when hot pain flares up through his leg.

He drops to one knee and twists, taking out two more guys with three shots, because the first was used to disarm the first guy, who was aiming at Penny.

Penny, the stupid girl, who had come back for him. She’s trying to help him up, to stand, and Clint wants to snarl at him, order her to go forward, when fire erupts in front of them, cutting off their escape, curling around and they are trapped in a ring of fire.

Clint bares his teeth in a feral snarl, even as tranquilizer darts hit them both.

His hopes that the tranquilizers don’t kill Penny is his last thought before darkness claims him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...I still can't write fight scenes.


	7. To guard you and keep you safe from all harm [vomiting, torture]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate to give spoilers, but I know people might get squicked.
> 
> That and I swore on the prompt place that I would put warnings in the chapters.
> 
> Also, I am not versed in torture techniques, except a doctor needs to be called if lashes exceed ten, or fifteen (I honestly can't remember right now).
> 
> So...no, it is not descriptive.
> 
> But you get the point.

Clint comes to easily and finds that the cell is bare, there are no comfy places to sleep, and Coulson is resolutely not looking at either of them, his sunglasses lost.

Clint wonders what the hell is going to happen now, and realizes that it is his job to take care of Penny, who is still passed out. He immediately goes to her side and makes sure she is still breathing.

Her heart rate is slower then he would like, but she’s alive and he sets to waking her up, even though Coulson isn’t reacting.

The fact Penny wakes up heaving and nearly choking on her own vomit has him turning her over into an unused corner, and he manages to keep them relatively clean, minus some flecks, and he carefully settles her away and whispers to her, frantically, to act like they only know each other, only care about each other, we do _not_ know the god-damn man in the corner!

She understands (it has been over a year in SHIELD, of course she understands; Penny was never stupid) and they stay away, even if the smell gets to them.

However, they don’t stay long. All three are forced into blindfolds, Clint kicking and snarling the whole way, because the more attention on him, the more they will look at him, keep away from Penny, and she doesn’t deserve to be here, because Clint knows what is going to happen now.

He just hopes it doesn’t happen to _her_.

* * *

The cell they are moved into is smaller, damper, and colder. Penny is already shivering, because she’s just so damn fine boned and small, and Clint presses close to her, keeping her in the corner. Coulson, however, is held up standing.

“Who are you?” the head guard demands, in German.

Of _course._

Because it is HYDRA.

Clint knew he wasn’t supposed to know, but vent roaming was fun and he _will_ kill Fury if anything happens.

Maybe.

If he can get an arrow through the one-eyed bastard’s remaining eye.

Coulson doesn’t answer, eyes unfocused and Clint knows what he’s doing.

He’s locking himself away, pretending he isn’t there. His mind has gone far away and Clint is already twisting Penny away from the sight, pressing her face into his neck and refusing to let Penny see as, for each echoing silence, they hurt Coulson.

First it is blunt trauma, but then they yank off his suit jacket and bring out a cat-of-nine-tails and Clint holds tighter to Penny.

She hears the whistle and crack.

Clint sees when that starts to dig Coulson out of wherever he’s gone.

It takes three more before Coulson’s knees give out and the guards have to struggle to hold him.

_Who are you?_

_Why are you here?_

That is the only other thing beyond the whistle and strike, between other blows, because they don’t want him dead.

But they let him drop and his shirt is in shreds, but they yank the suit jacket back over him, and Clint pushes Penny behind him as they start to get close.

“If he will not tell us for himself, maybe he will for the young one,” the head guard said, still in German and more guards come.

Clint is hauled away, and he fights, but they don’t make Clint watch, because they aren’t after Clint.

They’re after Coulson and they grip his head and force him to watch them hurt Penny, her screams echoing around their dark chamber.

Clint shouts at them to stop, that she doesn’t know anything, what are they doing, why, anything that sounds normal.

Clint doesn’t look at Coulson until his voice, soft, pleading, begs for them to stop.

Needless to say, they don’t.


	8. Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow Bless you with love for the road that you go [aftermath of torture, death]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again...sorry for the spoilers.

Clint stares as Coulson crawls over to where they dropped Penny after brutally torturing her, his ears echoing with her screams (and Coulson’s silent pleading in the way he pretends not to care, the way he looks right at her and pretends he doesn’t care that they are breaking bones and making her scream till it sounds like something catches and breaks), and watches as Coulson, hands shaking, even as he carefully, gently, settles her so her head so it is resting in his lap.

He begins to run his fingers over her forehead, and then back through her hair, and her breathing is rasping and echoing painfully through their cell.

“ _Sleep_ _, my child, and peace attend thee, all through the night; Guardian angels God will send thee.”_

Clint listens as a soft voice begins to sing and Clint shifts and listens and realizes that Coulson is singing.

“ _All through the night; Soft the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and vale in slumber sleeping, I my loving vigil keeping, all through the night._ ”

Singing softly, a gentle lullaby that has no place where Penny’s screams and Coulson’s soft begging toward the end, to _please, please let her live_ , still echo (because right now, Clint cannot think of him of Phil, not when blood clings to him that is mostly his and his own breathing hitches over the words that are pouring from his mouth).

“ _While the moon her watch is keeping, all through the night; While the weary world is sleeping._ ”

His fingers are still moving and Penny is rasping, the soft gurgle of blood and Clint moves over, because he should, and holds her hand, squeezing gently.

_“All through the night; O'er thy spirit gently stealing, visions of delight revealing, breathes a pure and holy feeling, all through the night.”_

Clint is trying to figure out why he’s singing, when he realizes that Penny’s eyes aren’t focused and her breathing is shuddering and he _knows_ that shuddering and Clint’s heart freezes.

Because Penny is dying and Coulson is singing to her because it is all he can do.

“ _Hark, a solemn bell is ringing, clear through the night; You, my love, are heav'nward winging, home through the night.”_

Penny’s breathing is getting slower and Clint wants to shake him, demand he do more, but it is obvious that Penny has punctured lungs and there are no sounds of a rescue coming.

It is obvious that Penny will only survive now through divine intervention.

“ _Earthly dust from off thee shaken, by good angels art though taken; Soul immortal shalt though waken, home through the night._ ”

With the last strains of the song echoing through their cell Penny let out a shaky sigh and stilled.

Coulson’s hands convulsed slightly against her head, but he doesn’t have her rest on the ground.

If wet drops hit Penny’s forehead, Clint doesn’t say a thing.

And he wonders how many others Phil (because this is Phil, not Agent Coulson) sang to like this, knowing he could do nothing and still trying to give them everything.

Clint stays next to Penny’s body and a quietly crying Phil and wonders what else SHIELD is going to take from them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the song is ‘All Through the Night’ that he sings.


	9. I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay [asphyxiation, violence]

SHIELD is three hours too late.

And by 'three hours too late' Clint means 'three hours too late to rescue any of them.'

A half an hour of sitting with Penny, Coulson giving up his suit jacket to cover her. "When I tell you to run, remember Penny," is all Phil tells him and then he sits in the middle of the room, eyes focused on the door, tense and Clint has long since stopped holding Penny's hand.

The first guard through is dead because Phil slammed the nose straight up. The second is dead because Phil snapped their neck.

The third, fourth, and fifth die because Phil remembered to grab one of the batons off the first two and bashed their heads in. The head guard Phil grabbed by the throat, slammed into a wall, and pressed, clinging tighter and tighter as the head guard scrambled for breath, for purchase, for _anything_ , until, Clint was sure, his heartbeat had stopped pounding into Phil's hands.

And then he snapped the neck, just in case.

"Run," Phil ordered and Clint didn't hesitate to make sure he grabbed Penny, ignoring how Penny was obviously dead now.

Because, except for the gun Phil passed to him, he didn't talk. He just moved with purpose, ignoring his own blood loss that made his skin look ashen, and ignoring that someone just shot him in the shoulder, though Clint killed him before Phil could get over there to, and he just moved. Moved through the base and anyone stupid enough to try and stop them, died.

Clint was sufficently terrified and awed by Phil, because this...this was not Agent Coulson.

This was Phil.

Phil who had sung Penny until she stopped breathing, and before then, long before then, had helped her with problems that Clint couldn't begin to understand, had talked her through her clausterphobia (twice), and every little thing.

Clint realized that none of them were last names to him.

They were _his_ , _Phil's_ , and he poured himself into them.

When they are sitting, safe and far away, Phil just sits down, and stares into the distance, holding himself up through sheer force of will, his eyes a distant blank. His lips are moving, but Clint doesn't want to hear what he is saying, if only to maybe avoid that maybe, just maybe, he cares more for Phil Coulson than Agent Coulson of SHIELD.

It has been three hours since they broke out.

Only when the medical team touches down, reaching out to touch Phil, does he collapse.

Clint hopes he isn't dead too, but he has a feeling, he isn't.

He only allows Penny's dead body to be taken from him when he knows that everything is going to be okay, from here on out at least.

He settles next to Phil and ignores how his only injury is a probably, now, infected bullet graze that went through his thigh deep enough to actually draw blood but has long since clotted.

Clint has a feeling he'll be avoiding mirrors for awhile.


	10. And may you need never to banish misfortune

Once Coulson is conscious enough to, he is debriefed, while Clint was debriefed from before.

He hates debriefing and realizes that the easy ones Coulson walked them through were to prepare them for this, so it was just motions.

So you could detach yourself.

Clint wonders if he can do the same thing for everything, because he cares very deeply for Phil and he doesn’t think he can get through SHIELD if he can’t detach himself.

* * *

Coulson releases himself from the medical wing and returns to his desk, ignoring how the stripes across his back shriek in protest to his moving. He settles in his office and hears Clint slide into place above.

A surprise, considering that most of the other Junior Agents are avoiding him now.

“Get out of my vent, Barton,” Coulson ordered.

Clint was going to become an asset.

Coulson had a bet down for two months before Clint was before his desk again.

He doesn’t look up when he hears Clint pull away.

* * *

“It wasn’t your fault,” Clint says, staring at Coulson, who as at work far too soon for Clint’s tastes.

They lost Matthews, not because she was suicidal, but because she couldn’t work at SHIELD anymore, and Lowell and Grant left too.

Apparently, this isn’t an uncommon occurrence.

This sector of SHIELD is the best of the best.

The rest remain, but Clint knows that they just remember a bloody Phil being operated on, a bullet being removed from Phil while a sobbing Matthews clung to the covered body of Penny.

No one would let her see the body and Clint is rather glad they insisted on it, because the body really doesn’t look like Penny anymore.

Clint thinks Fury feels guilty, but he doesn’t give a damn.

Because Phil is sitting there and he’s staring at the computer and the lights are low, but they always are when it is just Phil.

He moves to have the lights go up, but Clint shakes his head and walks over, settling across from Phil.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Clint repeated.

Coulson stares at him and answers, “I know.”

Clint doesn’t believe him, but he lets Coulson have that.

He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t question, and he doesn’t push.

And he doesn’t ask ‘why that song?’

And he doesn’t ask ‘how many have you sung it to?’

Even if he wants to know.

“Come here,” Clint orders and Coulson practically glares at him.

“What?”

Clint stands and makes a motion. “Can you lie on your stomach? I want to try something,” he says and Coulson hesitates, but stands and walks over to where Clint is now standing next to the sofa he had added to his office because he was tired of his Cygnets sitting on the floor.

Coulson didn’t say that, of course, but that was why it was there.

Clint settled on the couch and motioned for Coulson to lie down.

He was careful, and he went, though hesitantly and eyes blanked out and slightly distant.

It was probably a bad idea, but there it was and Coulson’s lying on the couch, head settled in Clint’s lap.

Once he stops mentally squealing with glee, Clint immediately begins to massage Coulson’s temples.

He doesn’t say a word and Coulson relaxes, eventually.

Clint considers it a win.


	11. Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

Clint grins down out of the vent as a new bunch of Junior Agents learn the secret of Agent Phil Coulson.

Once again, he’s the swan with his cygnets.

In the years since Clint himself had been one of those cygnets, he has learned a lot.

The first was, if you blasted through every handler within two months, you got Phil.

The second was Phil had been the one to throw himself at his handler when he was a gawky young asset, fresh out of assassin training, in the debriefing room.

Okay, not gawky, very sinewy and sexy actually, Clint has seen pictures, but still, nothing like the Phil Clint knows today.

Okay, not nothing, but definitely before Agent Coulson.

The third was that Phil had achromatopsia, which meant he could only see in black, white, and shades of grey.

The fourth was that Phil had sung _that song_ …a lot.

Had held agents, and junior agents, and civilians as they died and sang to them softly, shouldering all that blame and then ripping into their murderers afterwards with a single minded determination that came from years of training and a fury that came from the feeling of failure.

The fifth thing Clint had learned was that he would never stop finding new things to love about Phil.

Clint smiles as a junior agent peeks in, hands clutching at a folder as if it is her lifeline. “Agent Coulson sir?” she questioned and Clint’s heart aches at how much she’s like Penny, all fine boned and tiny, eyes wide with naivety that neither Clint or Phil ever had (and yes, Clint knows why Phil decided to become the Junior Agents’ guardian angel, avenging angel, and anything and everything they needed, no matter what).

Phil immediately capped the pen he was writing with, set the report he was working on to the side and focused entirely on the junior agent, his entire stance gentle. “What do you need Junior Agent Reardon?” he questioned softly, soothingly, and Clint leans on his hand.

God, he loves his husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO...yeah, chapter 11 takes place in the future. I might write a 'What Clint Learned About Phil' thing that takes place, but eventually.
> 
> Not now.
> 
> My head is killing me.
> 
> The 'inspiration' is the sequel. I know you can just click next for the series.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is found over at [here.](http://cc-feelsmeme.livejournal.com/1635.html?thread=161635#t161635)
> 
> At the Clint/Coulson Prompt Meme on LJ.
> 
> All the chapter titles will be lines from 'Sleepsong' by Secret Garden, to fit with the theme, as best as I can.
> 
> It is a frighteningly haunting song.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [He who does not trust enough, Will not be trusted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/492868) by [Moonrose91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moonrose91)




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